


Hot Mic

by storieswelove



Series: Schitt's Creek Meet-Uglies [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Ted and Patrick are professional baseball players, but these fools are all in love in all configurations of the universe so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21565042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storieswelove/pseuds/storieswelove
Summary: “No, man, come on, we’re not going to set you up with them or anything. Just give us something to go on. If not, Andy’s going to try to set you up again with that cousin who’s an accountant and collects creepy dolls.”“I don’t know, Ted. What do you want me to say? Just like, point out total strangers? Like the reporter with the polka dot shirt in the third row or—“ something was wrong with his voice, it was echoing in his ears? He didn’t realize what was happening in time to stop saying “—that guy in the back row with the dark hair and ridiculous lightning bolt sweater?”--Patrick's teammates try to set him up. He doesn't realize his mic is on. David is *very* cute.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Theodore "Ted" Mullens/Alexis Rose
Series: Schitt's Creek Meet-Uglies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554166
Comments: 47
Kudos: 379





	Hot Mic

**Author's Note:**

> Meet-Ugly prompt: I’m a pro-athlete at a press conference and I make a comment to my buddy about you because I forgot my mic was on. 
> 
> Part of a series I'm starting after reading the greatest set of meet-ugly (as opposed to meet-cute) prompts by [veronicariley](https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/274308).

“Okay, but like, out of everyone in this crowd, who is your type?” 

They were sitting at a long table at the front of the room, waiting for the press conference to start. Patrick’s teammates had been pestering him to let them set him up on a date since he’d come out to them three months ago. It was incredibly sweet and, after months of pure fear and dread, had made him tear up on more than one occasion. Still, it was still a bit much. Ted, their shortstop and resident romantic, had been the most insistent, bringing it up at least once a week. 

“What? No, that’s too weird!” said Patrick, exhausted from their game, but not tired enough to cave in to Ted’s questioning.

“No, man, come on, we’re not going to set you up with them or anything. Just give us something to go on. If not, Andy’s going to try to set you up again with that cousin who’s an accountant and collects creepy dolls.” 

Patrick had really dodged a bullet there. He had almost agreed when Andy had mentioned it. Coming out meant feeling like he finally had the freedom to date, but it had also coincided with the beginning of spring training. They’d slipped right from training into the regular season, and with it had gone any chance of meeting someone. Being set-up seemed easier. But Ted had warned him off, having met Mortimer ( _seriously, whose name is_ Mortimer _?)_ a couple years earlier. Dolls around the house? Hard pass there. He turned his head slightly, away from the crowd and toward his teammate.

“I don’t know, Ted. What do you want me to say? Just like, point out total strangers? Like the reporter with the polka dot shirt in the third row or—“ something was wrong with his voice, it was echoing in his ears? He didn’t realize what was happening in time to stop saying “—that guy in the back row with the dark hair and ridiculous lightning bolt sweater?” 

His mic had clicked on. This fucking mic had gone hot in the middle of the sentence, and he was going to die of embarrassment right here in front of 75 reporters. 

Ted’s eyes were the size of quarters. Patrick finally looked back out at the crowd, cheeks burning. The cute guy in black and white looked equal parts horrified and livid, mouth agape and arms crossed. He was sitting next to a pretty girl with wavy hair and a square jaw who seemed to be holding back a laugh. She looked vaguely familiar, but Patrick couldn’t even begin thinking about placing her. 

Ted cleared his throat. 

“First question — reporter in the third row, with the polka dot shirt on…” 

He turned his head ever so slightly at Patrick and winked. His cheeks burned more than ever. 

* * *

“What the _fuck_ ,” hissed David, under his breath. “Who even _is_ that?”

Who the fuck did that guy think he was?

David was used to people making comments about clothes, and it always sucked, even if he thought those people had no taste to speak of. But this was just some guy at a press conference for…what sport did Alexis’s new boyfriend play? Basketball? Hockey? Whatever. All of these athletes were assholes. It never failed. 

“Shh, David, relax. That’s Patrick, he’s one of Ted’s friends,” whispered Alexis. 

“I fucking hate sports jocks.” 

Still fuming, he tried to leave after the presser, but Alexis refused to let him go. 

“Oh my god, it’s so not a big deal, David. Anyway, this sweater is a bit much,” she said, wrinkling her nose. 

“Okay, Alexis, you can go sit on a stick.” 

“Plus,” she continued like he hadn’t said a word, “you promised to stay! These guys are _sooo_ boring. They’re like, constantly talking about baseball. Like, we get it, you hit the ball and then ran a bunch, who cares? Please, David?” 

She pouted her face. He was a pushover for his sister, no matter how much of a pain she was. 

“Fine. One drink and then I’m out.” 

* * *

Alexis spotted Ted from across the room at post-game drinks and grabbed David by the arm to drag him over. Ted was talking to a shorter guy who had his back to them. As they approached, David noticed the guy had nice shoulders. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

Alexis let go of David to plant a kiss on her boyfriend. The man Ted was talking to turned around, and _fuck_ his luck, it was the asshole from the press conference. He felt his stomach drop. 

“Hi, babe!” said Alexis “You were so great today!” 

Ted smirked. 

“Alexis, did you have any idea what was going on, at all, the entire nine innings?” Ted asked.

“Ummm, yes!” David’s sister could be a great liar. Sports was not one of those times. 

“Mhm,” he said, still smiling. It was endearing, thought David. Like he saw through Alexis’s bullshit and liked her anyway. That must be...nice.

Ted turned to him. 

“Hi, David! Good to see you. How have you been?” 

“Uh, fine,” he said. 

Ted nodded his head, still smiling. He was like a damn golden retriever. How was he always so happy?

Ted looked briefly at Patrick, and David turned to see he was biting back a smile. Wasn’t it enough that he had done his best to humiliate David an hour earlier?

“Oh, sorry, I forgot you don’t know each other!” said Ted. “Patrick, this is Alexis’s brother, David. David, this is Patrick, our _catcher_.” David heard the weird emphasis at the end of the sentence, baffled by why Ted would think David would give a shit what part some tool played. Patrick gave David a tiny wave. David nodded. 

Ted, still beaming, leaned down to whisper something in Alexis’s ear. Her eyes lit up. 

“Hey babe, do you want to grab a drink?” Ted said loudly. Gross. Way to be subtle. They were probably going to make out somewhere.

“Umm, yes! David, you’ll be fine for a few minutes, right?” Without waiting for an answer, she skipped off, arm in arm with Ted. 

God, and now he was stuck standing here with Patrick. Why couldn’t he be better at getting out of uncomfortable situations? Then again, if he had that particular skill, his life would probably be radically different. 

Patrick had his hands shoved in his pockets, and was smiling slightly at David. The nerve of this guy.

“Listen, about earlier…” 

“Oh, there’s no need. I heard you loud and fucking clear.” _Well, so much for getting out of this unscathed._ “You felt the need to mock me to your friends, which is pretty brave, considering you’re wearing —“ he gave Patrick a once over, noticing for the first time how nicely the mid-range denim and blue button down fit his muscular body “—this,” he said, sweeping his hand down in indication.

Patrick somehow smiled even more. Who the fuck _was_ this guy? 

“Well, you have to admit, David, the sweater is a little bit over the top.”

“Excuse me, I’ll have you know this is a Neil Barrett sweater, it’s extremely high end, and I’m pretty sure it costs more than your entire outfit. You literally have a multi-million dollar contract, why are you even wearing these department store clothes? And more importantly,” he said, because now that he’d started, there was no stopping him. “What kind of a monster just makes fun of someone when they’re on a fucking mic? My god, most people at least have the decency to say it behind my back.” 

Patrick looked uncomfortable now, a nervous smile replacing the earlier grin. Which, good, that’s what he deserved. He looked weirdly endearing like that, head a little dipped and face starting to flush. God, forget what was wrong with Patrick, what was wrong with _him_? Why was he always attracted to assholes?

“I wasn’t making fun of you,” he said. 

“Okay, please, don’t insult my intelligence too. You literally pointed me out to one of your soccer —“ 

“— Baseball” 

“Whatever, baseball buddies, with the express purpose of talking about how _ridiculous_ my clothing is. What is that if not making fun of me?”

Patrick looked viscerally uncomfortable now, arms crossed and looking down at the floor. He looked back at David through his eyelashes, and after a beat said — 

“I was, um, I was actually telling Ted you were my type.” 

David was sure he had misheard.

“Excuse me?” 

“Yeah, um,” Patrick’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat before continuing. “The guys found out I was gay recently and they’ve been trying to set me up? So Ted’s been nagging me to tell him my type.” 

Patrick was bright red now, which fuck, was _that_ cute. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure Ted just bailed because he wanted us to talk. He’s unnaturally optimistic,” said Patrick, with a shaky laugh. “Anyway, I’ll leave you be. Sorry for upsetting you. And sorry for, uh, this,” he finished weakly. 

He turned to go. 

David could not believe he was about to do this. A _baseball_ _player_? 

“Wait.” 

Patrick turned around, eyes wide and hopeful. How were his eyes so expressive? 

“There’s a bar nearby that makes really great cocktails. They have a pretty strict dress code,” he said, waving his hand at Patrick’s outfit. “But I might be able to get them to make an exception.” 

Patrick was back to grinning. 

“Oh, but your sweater, that’s formal enough?” 

“Like I said, this is designer.” 

Patrick’s eyes were dancing.

“Give me five minutes. I have a blazer in my locker.”

**Author's Note:**

> All my thanks to the absolute love of my life, Aulauem, who wrote the beginning dialogue in a text spiral, and who beta'd this for me because I have as much sportsball knowledge as David.
> 
> If you have a Meet-Ugly you wanna see, let me know which one in the comments or on [Tumblr @ storieswelove](storieswelove.tumblr.com/ask)!


End file.
